


24th century t...echnology

by NuMo



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Completely unashamed about it too, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, PWABOP (Porn with a bit of plot), Sex Toys, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuMo/pseuds/NuMo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kathryn places the bundle beneath Beverly’s breasts, the tips of her hair, longer now than at their wedding, brushing already-taut nipples deliciously; and then she looks up at her wife with that come-hither look of hers that packs more punch than a bottle of Aldebaran whiskey. Her gift is wrapped in fabric, something soft and silky and lightly patterned in dark reds. “This looks… kinky,” Beverly grins. </p><p>Kathryn’s answering smirk is an incredible mixture of sauciness and embarrassment. <i>Spot on, then, hm?</i> Beverly tugs at the strings, fiddles on purpose, just to see her squirm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	24th century t...echnology

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oparu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/gifts).



> 'Tis the season... and I enjoyed reading Oparu's Beverly and Kathryn so, so, SO much that... well. Here's a little something in return that I hope doesn't disappoint too badly. Let me know either way, okay?
> 
> And yeah, here be toys, and yeah, you can have perfectly good hot steamy lesbian sex without them, but they can also be, like, nice, if that's how you're tickin'. Buzzin'. Whatever.

She scuttles back into bed, gloriously naked and armed with a small wrapped package, and Beverly laughs. “But Christmas is long past, Kathryn!”

“Oh, this is not a Christmas gift,” she answers, “this is for our anniversary.” She looks incredibly smug, too, for remembering.

“Which of them?” Beverly quips, well recalling every single one: September 2nd, 2353 – first meeting, of a student and her tutor in a course on Exobiology. God, had there been sparks. August 8th, 2357 – first sex, free from the restrictions of pupil and teacher, cadet and officer – Kathryn had graduated the day before, was on her way to her first assignment the day after, but they had made their goddamn most of the twenty-four hours in between. 

Then, May 28th, 2371 – the day Voyager disappeared. Although quite certain that it doesn’t count as an anniversary, Beverly well remembers the date. She’d followed Kathryn’s career, had been impressed by it, had been well aware of how solicitous and powerful a person Kathryn Janeway was. Had been quite sure that a mere spatial phenomenon (or, later, a mere 70,000 light years) wouldn’t stop the valiant captain her lover-of-one-night had become from returning one day.

Not to her, God forbid. It hadn’t been more than just that one night. Great night, certainly, but, by mutual understanding, just one night. Kathryn had had her career, Beverly had had a son on top of that. But oh, what a night it had been.

She hadn’t expected the chance encounter on the grounds of Starfleet Med, nor the potted orchid that had been delivered on her doorstep on June 15th, 2378. Nor the card attached to it, asking her in a faintly recognizable, visibly matured, still barely legible hand if she was free for a cup of coffee on the weekend.

And oh, what a weekend it had been. 

Kathryn had had such hunger in her eyes that they’d barely finished their cups. Later, Beverly had learned more about that hunger than she’d felt comfortable with, at the beginning – she had her own demons, after all – but, first do no harm, and Kathryn with her goddamn way of getting under your skin, and so she had listened, and held, and fought alongside her lover-of-many-a-night. 

Her partner. Her wife, of one year to this day.

A swat to her thigh pulls Beverly from her reverie, but she doesn’t mind at all; not when this playful wife of hers crawls all over her to divest Beverly of her nightclothes. “You know exactly which one, Beverly.” How quickly Beverly had gotten used to that – Kathryn’s clever tongue wrapping around her name so lovingly, in a way no one else’s ever quite does.

So Beverly kisses her, deeply, when Kathryn’s in range to do so, cherishing her wife’s playfulness on oh so many levels. “I do.” Kathryn places the bundle beneath Beverly’s breasts, the tips of her hair, longer now than at their wedding, brushing already-taut nipples deliciously; and then she looks up at her wife with that come-hither look of hers that packs more punch than a bottle of Aldebaran whiskey. Her gift is wrapped in fabric, something soft and silky and lightly patterned in dark reds. “This looks… kinky,” Beverly grins. 

Kathryn’s answering smirk is an incredible mixture of sauciness and embarrassment. _Spot on, then, hm?_ Beverly tugs at the strings, fiddles on purpose, just to see her squirm.

What falls out of the folds of fabric, finally, is a plaque, very soft and pliant, vaguely five-sided and about as large as the size of the palm of her hand, though much, much thinner. It’s a lush, dark turquoise color, and Beverly has no idea at all what to make of it. She turn to Kathryn, eyebrow raised. 

“You put it on,” Kathryn says, which really doesn’t explain anything, does it. Where? How? And to what purpose? Beverly’s patient look makes Kathryn blush and bite her lip like back in their classroom, and Beverly starts to suspect something. Then, “Oh, I guess I… give it here,” Kathryn bursts out, and a more-golden-than-red-by-now eyebrow rises sharply at what the still-auburn woman does next: ‘Here’ translates into a motion towards her mons, and a doctor’s suspicion peaks when Kathryn places it exactly above it, the tip of the pentagon pointing downwards. What happens next, though, takes Beverly’s breath – hell, her _mind_ away.

The plaque changes color, chameleons to exactly the shade of Kathryn’s skin, then two flat strings of pliant material snake out of the plaque and around her thighs, and another encircles her hips, lodging the plaque firmly in place. Something else apparently happens where Beverly can’t see it, because Kathryn gasps and blushes even harder. Then – _sweet here-and-now_. 

A human penis grows, complete with – Beverly swallows – _testicles_. It looks odd… and so _fascinating_. It’s flaccid, still, and its base seems to have… melded into Kathryn’s groin, Beverly almost can’t see the plaque and the strings (or straps, hmmm?) any longer. Her scrutiny doesn’t go unnoticed, either. Kathryn swallows, and it’s then Beverly notices that her own mouth is hanging open. She rectifies the situation quickly, and runs her tongue over her lips _quite_ innocently. The… cock gives a slight twitch in response, and Kathryn gasps again. 

Beverly slowly tears her eyes away from… there, and meet her wife’s. “Care to explain?” She’s quite proud of how innocent her voice and eyebrows make the question. 

“Um… I… well, I thought…” even when she’d proposed, Beverly hadn’t seen Kathryn blush so thoroughly. Hell, even her nipples- although that might be for another reason entirely. Then she bursts out, “Phoebe told me about them,” and Beverly can’t help herself. She whoops a laugh, then covers her mouth immediately, shoulders shaking hard enough to hurt.

“She did, did she?” Beverly says when she can, wiping tears away. “Holy strap-on, Kathryn, that sister of yours surely is an asset.”

“You like it?” The question comes lightning-fast.

“I _think_ it might be a little too early to judge, but it does look good.” Beverly touches the… tip and it – and Kathryn – twitches. Then Doctor Crusher, ever curious, leans forward to scrutinize it more closely, tilting her head. “How does it work?”

“Well. Um. You… contact the manufacturer, and they send you a probe, and it takes your-” she swallows, “-measurements…” Beverly whoops again. The way Kathryn says it… can only mean one thing, really. _Sweet Peeping Tom, I wish I’d been part of_ that _fitting._ “Then you send it back, along with the credits, and a few days later… they send this to you.” Both of Beverly’s eyebrows rise this time. “I did this anonymously, of course,” Kathryn quickly adds, apparently reading Beverly’s thoughts. Well, yes. Admiral Kathryn Janeway in _that_ customer list… Beverly Crusher, twice former CMO of the flagship and current head of Starfleet Medical for the second time as well, would have done the same. “Had the probe sent to Earth, and collected the final… um, product, when we were on Deep Space Six,” Kathryn finishes with a lopsided, more hopeful than playful smile.

“But how does this _work?_ ” Beverly repeats, running her fingertip lightly along its length and watching her wife’s stomach quiver from the touch. The skin feels completely lifelike, right down to temperature and silkiness. Even her considerable medical experience aside, _personal_ memories let her be well aware of the authenticity of this… replica? _I wonder if… oh, might as well._ Beverly bows down and repeats the motion of finger with tongue, relishing in the involuntary, gloriously husky shudder of a moan this produces. The taste is… _Kathryn’s_ , a mixture of how her skin tastes and how… hmmm, other parts of her skin taste. Smells just like her, too. 

“Its base,” her scientist of a wife says with a hitch to her voice that’s just as delicious, “is… connected to, and stimulates the… clitoral nerve plexus.” It’s _dangerous_ what her voice does to Beverly, oh so detached (or trying to be) on the oh so very proper anatomical terms, but in oh so much of a contrast to how her eyes droop shut, then open oh so wide when Beverly take another lick, hand oh so gently cupping the scrotum. “Bev,” she mewls. The corpora cavernosa, or their holographic equivalent, are sure doing what they’re supposed to do by now. 

“So you feel when I do this?” Beverly murmurs, kissing the base of the replica as and when it becomes available.

“…yes…” 

The sighed word wins a grin that is no less evil for being overlooked. Teasing the cock even more erect, Beverly looks at it appreciatively. Tastes nice, feels nice, looks nice – no pubic hair, no foreskin, no discolorations. Dorsal artery nice and straight, glans nice and rosy (and already shiny with Cowper’s), size nice and… ample. Yes. Nice. Definitely. 

“Good God, this looks weird,” Kathryn exhales suddenly, and Beverly chuckles, straightening again. She’s right. Here Kathryn Janeway lies, her naked body a wonderfully familiar sight, a goddamn cock sprouting from her hips. Her mouth quirks, and her blush is still firmly in place, but her eyes gleam with just as much excitement as Beverly’s.

“Stimulating, I should say,” Beverly answers with a quirk of her own. “Just how big is it, anyway?”

“Right now, it should be- Beverly!” Her words end in a yelp. And yes, that last syllable does lend itself to being yelped, doesn’t it? _I should do this more often._

“Sorry,” Beverly mumbles, withdrawing her hand from where she’d… squeezed. Gently, of course, but apparently still too… stimulating. 

Kathryn laughs a little breezily. “You like it, then?” she repeats her question.

“I love it, my dearest.” Beverly places a kiss on its tip to reinforce her words. “Now – how big?”

“Twenty centimeters in length, four point five of diameter.” 

_God, woman._ ‘Point’ anything, in a moment like this. _You gotta love her._ “M-hm…” Beverly hums, wrapping her hand around its base again. “Sounds about right.”

Kathryn tries to shrug, but apparently, something about what Beverly is doing is distracting her. “We-hell, if it’s not, whuh-we can change it.” 

Golden eyebrows come up and a doctor’s hand stops its caress. “We can?”

“Sure,” an admiral exhales, more composed now that her wife’s let up. “This is basically a mini-hologram; we can change parameters anytime.”

Beverly’s grin grows dirtier by the second. “Hell yeah,” she breathes, with feeling. Then something occurs to her. “Is this… does this fit only you?”

“Well…” Kathryn squirms a little, and Beverly squeezes her hand a little, and appreciates what happens enormously. 

“Kathryn Janeway, did you take my… measurements when I wasn’t looking?” She does try to sound serious and stern, but fails spectacularly – that grin is simply irrepressible. 

“Wha- no!” Kathryn blushes again, and swallows. “But this… does.”

“This scans me while we use it?” _Heavens help me._

“Yes, to ensure that later… changes in size are not…” the Janeway Hand waves about, “hazardous.”

“My goodness.”

“I’ll say.”

“You really went all-out with this, didn’t you?” Beverly looks at her wife, vacillating between amusement, arousal, and being completely smitten.

“I’m not one for half-measures, Beverly, you know that.” 

Kathryn’s indignant tone makes Beverly laugh, and bend down to kiss the tip of the holo-cock. “I do.” She eyes it, and it eyes her right back. “Well, mister, shall we have some fun, then?”

“‘Mister.’”

“Well, how are we to call it?” 

“Officially, it’s the-”

“Oh, let me guess – the Holo-Cock 3000?” Beverly looks up, cheek on thigh, chin millimeters from holographic testes. 

Kathryn rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Can’t we find a designation that’s more… dignified?”

“Kathryn, it’s a goddamn sex toy! A very fine one,” Beverly amends quickly when Kathryn scowls, “but a sex toy.”

“Well, I guess ‘Mister’ will work as well as anything,” she grants after a second. 

“I do hope this Mister will work better than most things,” Beverly… leers; there’s no other word for it. The Janeway Hand makes another appearance, swatting this time. Beverly certainly doesn’t mind; she’s seen it coming, and, while Kathryn rarely holds back, this time, for some reason, the swipe has barely been a half-hearted one. Beverly stretches out next to her wife, finally able to kiss her in a fashion appropriate to such a gift. 

Kathryn moans into her mouth after what seems like only seconds, and the sound intensifies when Beverly’s hand sneaks down to reconnect. It travels to all the right places, too, and the sensation of her hand on… it feels incredible, and more so because Kathryn _feels_ what Beverly is doing. When Beverly slips her leg over the shorter one next to it, the sensation of an erect cock rubbing against her hip is, for all the ogling and tasting and familiarizing that has gone before… spectacular. “My goodness,” she repeats, kissing Kathryn with renewed intensity. 

Kathryn’s response is an urgent growl, and a grasp for Beverly’s crotch. They both gasp when her fingers meet slick wetness. The erection is rock hard by now, and Beverly simply can’t resist. Swinging her leg out further, she gets up to her knees and straddles her wife, one hand firmly around the Mister’s head. Kathryn’s eyes, dark and dilated and transfixed, slowly close when Beverly lowers herself to guide their new acquisition inside of her, taking her time, grateful for the strength of her legs, mindful of how long it’s been since she had a cock. 

It feels… amazing. It throbs slightly, as if it reads Kathryn’s pulse to imitate it – hell, it probably _does_. Nicely filling, too, and Beverly finds herself simply not caring about it scanning her when it feels so _real_ , warm and satiny and hard. By the way Kathryn’s eyes roll back and flutter, Beverly would wager it feels pretty good on the other side as well. 

“Good God,” Kathryn murmurs when Beverly starts to move her hips in small, circular motions. It makes Beverly smile. _Indeed._ When she squeezes her pelvic muscles experimentally, those lovely blue-grey eyes pop open. “Whoa! Beverly… please,” small hands land on Beverly’s arms, “ _please_ go slow. This is so… this is… overwhelming, I…” 

“I understand.” Ever the practitioner, Beverly bows down carefully to kiss Kathryn’s cheek, then trails a little trail of kisses down the line of her jaw, until she’s back at Kathryn’s lips again. “Don’t worry.” She’s turned on, very much so, but they have time, and her kiss tells her wife so. 

Apparently, the erection reacts to the wearer’s state of arousal – Kathryn’s spike of concern has softened it a little, and Beverly bends her elbows until she’s nearly on top of Kathryn, which has the double benefit of being able to kiss her even better, and of their nipples touching, something that has been known to delight both of them.

Dancer’s hips resume their small rocking motions when Kathryn moans, and the rising heat between them and inside her tells Beverly that her ministrations are serving their purpose. She straightens a bit, for a different sort of movement, instantly regretting the loss of their kiss, immensely turned on by how Kathryn’s sounds become even more urgent. Kathryn’s eyes fly open again when Beverly’s hips start to undulate, inside and out, and are met by this red-head’s best dangerous smile – _oh, I know how this works, love, trust me._ When Beverly’s quite certain that the Mister is as erect as he’ll ever be, she starts to move up and down, just a little bit, again and still grateful for her muscle tone. The toy does fill her nicely, but with room to spare both in length and in girth, and her clit is wanting, too. Nevertheless, the sheer _idea_ of this – _I’m bloody well_ riding _the woman I_ love, _and she_ feels _it_ – is damn, _damn_ hot. 

When, after a while of delighting in watching Kathryn slowly come undone, Beverly leans back a little to appease her legs, the renewed change in angle tears a gasp from both their throats, and Kathryn starts to move her hips, too. They find a rhythm after a bit of awkwardness, and – _good heavens._ By now, Kathryn’s eyes are glued to Beverly’s face, and her fingers dig into the flesh of Beverly’s hips to guide their movements. Beverly bends back yet further, and starts rolling her hips, pressing and clenching down on the erection in her need to _feel_ , to have it rub exactly _there. Hell, I’m close; I don’t know when I’ve last been so close so quickly, and without any attention to my-_

When she feels Kathryn’s finger on her clit as if she’s read that very thought, Beverly explodes.

* * *

The sensation of Beverly’s muscles clenching and unclenching around the… Mister… are… good grief. Kathryn’s heard the term ‘milking’, and, being a Starfleet officer _and_ living with a doctor, she knows basic human anatomy well enough to be aware of what’s causing this, but… good _grief_. To be at the receiving end – to see how Beverly throws her head back, to see the shudders all along her stomach, to feel being gripped within them – it brings Kathryn over, too. The Mister twitches like something alive, and the sensation it transmits to Kathryn’s nerve endings are… exquisite. 

It had sounded so dubitable, when she’d read the advertisements. ‘It’ll mold itself to your sensual center in the most perfect and desirable way’ – oh yes indeed. The one thing, no, make that two things, that haven’t come with this package are available extras, too, Kathryn recalls with a shaky smile as she slowly comes down from up high. Not so far down, either – the erection’s still there, if not as hard as before, but she can’t help being aroused, can she, with the image of Beverly’s writhing, lascivious movements still burning in her retinas. 

“Turn around,” she says huskily, and Beverly’s face, startled at first, slowly returns to that predatory smile of hers. Her dancer wife’s motions when she disentangles herself are just as gracious and lush and filled with promise as before, and the sight of her pale butt, rising from the bed, the truly _wanton_ expression on her face when she looks back over her shoulder, have the Mister fully erect again in moments. This time it isn’t Beverly who guides the Mister in, though; this time it’s Kathryn who enters her, confident and ever so turned on by how assertive this feels, and by how slick and open Beverly is, not to hold back in the least. 

Her first, powerful thrust wins her a husky groan, and Kathryn feels like growling herself when she feels Beverly’s wetness surround her at yet another angle. Kathryn revels in how Beverly’s sounds change in quality when she turns the simple in-out-motion into something more rolling, more circular. Then, still considerably aroused but, thankfully, not to the point of coming again quite so quickly, Kathryn starts to experiment – how it feels to pull out almost completely, to slide the Mister into Beverly agonizingly slowly, or with just the tip, or with unsuspected quickness… how it feels to encounter her wife’s g-spot – heavens, the sensation _that_ transmits to her clitoris almost has her coming again but she tries and manages to hold back, concentrating on swift, rocking, almost snapping motions that have Beverly bouncing in truly delectable ways. 

Beverly is cradling her head in her arms by now, her sounds urgent, raw, primal almost. Her insides are clenching and unclenching around the Mister in the same non-rhythm with which her hands clench and unclench around their fistfuls of sheet, Kathryn notices with almost scientific detachment. Her hips undulate in the most fascinating manner, too, and that’s as arousing as seeing it from the other side has been. 

Deepening her strokes again, Kathryn puts one hand at the small of Beverly’s back for balance, and reaches around and down and in with her other, until she finds Beverly’s clitoris, and with a howl and a shudder, she starts bucking into Kathryn, the ever-graceful dancer losing her rhythm. Kathryn persists, though, and after a moment, the continued pounding finds an answer, highlighted by gasps and cries and even more urgent clenching. 

Then, with what’s almost a wail, Beverly moves her full weight to her left elbow, and snakes her right arm back between her legs, past Kathryn’s hand on her clit, and cups the holographic balls and _squeezes_ them again. Kathryn can’t help it. The _feeling_ … she shouts out and starts coming again, and now they both lose what rhythm’s been left, bucking into each other until they collapse to the bed, a shuddering tangle of limbs and sheets. 

Beverly starts laughing weakly when she has recovered the breath to do so, and her shaking transmits itself to Kathryn, sprawled as she is atop her wife. Then slender but taller Beverly starts to roll beneath her, and Kathryn moves off to the side to let her, and even the sensation of the almost flaccid Mister slipping out is still enough to make them both shudder. Yes, Kathryn could spend the whole night finding out all the nice ways they can have fun with this toy, expensive as it’s been. Worth every single credit, every moment of awkwardness of its acquisition, too. Beverly, who certainly knows that look on Kathryn’s face by now, laughs again. “By all that’s holy, Kathryn… we’ll _never_ get anything done this week.”

“Beverly!” Kathryn tries for scandalized, but the word comes out a squeal, ruining the intention. Much as she knows, and is grateful for, their mutual appetite for sex, the thought of spending the _week_ … well. Well, alright, it _is_ appealing. But… “We do have jobs, you know. Things to do, people to see, you know how it is.” And Beverly’s insistence on constantly one-upping her can be damn irritating. Even if she couldn’t have known, this time. Still.

“Should have thought of that before you bought this.” Beverly has finally managed to flop to her back, quite a bit of her graciousness lost to post-coital exhaustion. Her arms welcome Kathryn when she snuggles into her wife’s side. Then she kisses the top of Kathryn’s head. “Thank you, my Kathryn.”

“I love you, you know.” Kathryn has been accused of hoarding these words. But then they _are_ precious, aren’t they?

Beverly’s eyes dance where her body no longer has the energy. “I do. You married me.”

“No, _you_ did. I asked.”

They both smile at the memory. “I love you, too, and I thank you.” Beverly kisses a freckle on Kathryn’s nose. “For a wonderful year.” Her cheek. “For you.” Her lips, in a sweet, tender, pliant, loving kiss. Then Kathryn feels those lips curl up in a smile. “And for a much appreciated and thoughtful anniversary gift. I could get used to that.”


End file.
